


Drive

by WonderAvian



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-22 23:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23002345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderAvian/pseuds/WonderAvian
Summary: It was a Monday.Originally posted on tumblr April 13th 2017.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Drive

It was a Monday. The road ahead was long and the sun had only just risen in the sky. The second eldest brother of the Tracy family sighed. He had missed opportunities like this.

Gordon popped his head in through the space between the two front seats and stared blearily down the endless horizon.

The fourth brother was tired. In the back, the fifth brother slept on, with his chin resting on the pillow the elder had put up in between them.

“How much further?” Gordon asked quietly.

“We’ve only just started,” Virgil gently admonished his younger brother. “It’s going to be a while yet, so you may as well sit down and get comfortable.”

“Alright, alright,” Gordon mumbled as he settled back in the seat next to the sleeping Alan. “Just you wait until Alan wakes up, though.”

Virgil shrugged his shoulders and kept his eyes on the road.

“Just try to enjoy the drive, Gords.”

His only reply was the twin snores of the two young men sleeping in the back.

Virgil smiled.

* * *

A seagull pooped on the windscreen.

Virgil cursed under his breath.

“NO! SLEEP! TILL BROOKLYN!” Two voices sang out in the back, each trying to be louder than the other. It was going on twenty-five minutes of this, with different classic songs the tinies only knew because of Virgil and Grandma’s taste in old music. The last ten minutes had been this one song on repeat.

Virgil resisted the urge to grind his teeth together as his younger brothers sang one of their Grandma’s favourite songs horribly off key.

“For the last time, we’re not even going to Brooklyn!”

* * *

“I spy… something red.”

“The spots on Virgil’s shirt?”

“No.”

“Your eyes?”

“Dude, my eyes are amber.”

“I could have said otherwise,” Virgil put in from the front.

“Shut up, Virgil. Guess again Alan.”

“The lights on the console?”

“No.”

“Keychain?”

“No.”

“That warning label?”

“No.”

“Virgil’s temper?”

“Pffft, dude, no.”

“Stripe on your phone case?”

“No.”

“That button?”

“No.”

“The dial on the hot/cool air button?”

“No.”

“Gordon there is nothing else in here that’s red.”

“It was that bottle cap on the floor.”

“…You cheater, I couldn’t see that! It was totally cheating Virgil tell him that was totally cheating.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “It was totally cheating.”

“Oh, so now you’re taking sides?” Gordon accused.

* * *

 _“He’ll kill us if we do that, Gordon…”_ Alan whispered discreetly to his brother.

 _“No he won’t, let’s just do it,”_ Gordon whispered back. _“Thirty bucks he won’t kill us.”_

_“Alright, fine, but if he does…”_

Two voices sang in chorus, “99 bottles of pop on the wall-” but they were cut off…

“I’m going to kill you guys.”

* * *

“I have to go the bathroom,” Alan complained.

“Why didn’t you use the bathroom when we stopped ten minutes ago?!” Virgil exclaimed.

“I didn’t have to go then!”

* * *

“Gordon, you’re gonna lose it.”

“No I’m not, shut up.”

“Hey Virgil, look at what this moron is –”

“SHIT! PULL OVER, I DROPPED MY PHONE OUT THE WINDOW, STOP THE CAR GO BACK, MY PHONE!”

* * *

“Dude, are these mints?” There was a rustle of an elastic bag.

“Uh… I think so?”

“Can I have them?”

“NO!”

There was a loud _thump_ from the back followed by a cry of pain. Instantly, Virgil stopped the car by the side of the road and swung round to give Gordon his best death glare.

“Seriously?! What the hell are you thinking?!”

Gordon had the grace to look ashamed. Alan gingerly touched the now gently throbbing spot on the back of his head.

“…Great, now I actually need painkillers.”

Gordon snickered slightly, looking only slightly remorseful. Virgil resisted the urge to groan.

* * *

“Lead rhymes with read, but read also rhymes with lead. The plural of octopus is octopi and the plural of cactus is cacti, but the plural of mattress is mattresses, not mattri.”

“You’ve broken the English language, Al. Hang on, I need to send this to John.” Gordon dug into his pockets to find his phone.

Virgil sighed.

“We really can’t go one day without this happening, can we?”

* * *

“Hey Alan, look over here.”

“Huh?”

Virgil glanced in the rearview mirror to see Gordon holding up his phone, trying to get Alan to look at him.

“Gordon, do not take advantage of your brother when he is in an unstable state,” Virgil reprimanded sharply.

Gordon grumbled as he put his phone away. “You’re no fun.”

* * *

They had to stop for fuel not much later. As Virgil went to fill up the car, Gordon took a jelly-legged Alan by the hand and dragged him into the store.

Leading his brother to the candy isle, Gordon’s gaze fell upon a vat of ice cream. He tugged Alan towards it, who had been trying to stumble in the opposite direction.

“Hey Alan look, they’ve got International Rescue flavoured ice cream!” Gordon said as he peered into the vat.

“What?” Alan said slowly.

“Yeah, they’ve got one for you, one for me – ha! Look at Scott! It looks nothing like him! This is hilarious, I have to take a picture of this, hold on –” Gordon let go of Alan’s hand and dug into his pockets for his phone. Grinning, Gordon took a photo of the unrealistic cartoonish depiction of their oldest brother.

“Okay, now I just have to text it to him… he’s replied already? Geez, what does the guy do all day? Alan, look at what Scott’s said… Alan?”

Outside, Virgil was just walking up to the front of the store so he could pay for the fuel when Alan suddenly appeared and launched himself unsteadily at Virgil. Virgil caught his little brother and held him up with some difficulty, as Alan was still unable to stay on his feet by himself.

“Whoa, Alan, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“People have been eating us,” Alan cried.

“What?”

“I said people have been eating us Virgil! And Gordon said, he was gonna eat Scott –”

Virgil sighed, lifting Alan up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and putting him in the back seat of the car, mindful not to bump the young man’s already tender head.

“Alan, people have not been eating us and Gordon is certainly not going to eat Scott. Whatever he told you are lies. I’ll go into the store and talk some sense into him.”

Alan sniffed, tugging weakly at his seat-belt.

“Okay.”

Virgil gave him a small smile and walked into the store. Five minutes later, just as Alan was starting to get a bit antsy, Virgil could be seen dragging out a loudly protesting Gordon by the ear.

“Ah! Jesus Christ Virgil, okay! I’ll apologise to Alan, just let go!”

“Good. Now get in the car. We’re going.”

Gordon stiffly got in the car and fixed Alan with an apologetic stare.

“I’m sorry Alan. I didn’t mean to say people have been eating us.”

“That’s okay.”

Gordon grimaced as he put his seat-belt on.

“I dunno why you’d think I’d eat Scott though. He’d be way too boney and sinewy.”

* * *

**Monday**

**Some butthole time in the morning**

**Chatroom: MORE HASTE LESS SPEED, SCOTT**

**Blueskiesahead:** why did Gordon text me saying he was going to eat me

 **Pianoman2:** did he not send you a picture

 **Blueskiesahead:** yes but it didn’t load

 **Pianoman2:** oh

 **Pianoman2:** okay then

 **Blueskiesahead:** VIRGIL PLEASE TELL ME WHATS GOING ON

 **Blueskiesahead:** I WILL COME OUT THERE AND PICK ALL THREE OF YOU UP IF I HAVE TO

 **Pianoman2:** SCOTT CALM DOWN I’LL TELL YOU

 **Pianoman2:** there really is no need to panic

 **Pianoman2:** we stopped for gas. Our idiot brother dragged his injured younger brother into the store and went straight to the candy isle. There was some ice cream in the vat that was apparently International Rescue flavoured with one for each of us. Alan was still too loopy to understand what was going on and somehow got himself out of the store and told me that people have been eating us and that Gordon was going to eat you

 **Blueskiesahead:** Alan’s injured?

 **Pianoman2:** he bumped his head on the car roof earlier. He’s fine now I got him on painkillers

 **Blueskiesahead:** wow

 **Pianoman2:** I will never truly understand that boy

* * *

“Hey Virgil, let me drive!” Gordon poked his brother’s shoulder.

Virgil snorted, not sure if Gordon was serious or not. “Over my dead body,” he said, swatting Gordon’s hands away.

Alan raised an eyebrow, his face twisted in an amused and slightly loopy smile.

“Is that a challenge?”

* * *

Alan was looking out the window, staring up at the clouds with his mouth open. Gordon noticed and pointed up at one of them.

“Look, Alan, that cloud is saying, ‘Hey, that one is shaped like an idiot!’,” tapping Alan lightly on the head.

Alan gasped in genuine shock.

“How dare it say that about you!”

Virgil burst out laughing, with tears in his eyes as he tried to focus on the road. Gordon flicked a mint at him.

* * *

“On one, two, three, go!” Alan said, and suddenly there was a bunch of kicking, flailing, and exclamations in the backseat. After ten seconds, someone kicked Virgil in the ear by accident.

“Hey!” he shouted, “What the hell are you doing?!”

“Tickle fight with no hands!” Gordon exclaimed, digging his heel into Alan’s ribs, to much laughter and protest.

* * *

“Da, daaa da da daaa, da daaa, daaa, da daaa, da da daaa, da daaaaa – da daaa, da da da, da daaaaa da daaaa, da daaaa, da da da, da daaaaaa.”

“Will you two shut up, you can’t _sing_ the Harry Potter theme!”

“Says the musician,” Gordon snorted, while Alan took the statement as a challenge and continued to sing at the top of his lungs.

“DA, DA DA DAAA, DA DUUUUN DUNNNN!”

* * *

“I’m going to be sick.”

“Serves you right.”

“Shut up Virgil.”

* * *

Virgil tapped his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, waiting for the light to change. In the back, Gordon rolled down his window.

“HEY,” he shouted at a girl on the crosswalk, “WILL YOU MARRY ME?”

“ARE YOU RICH?” she shouted back.

“YEAH, AND MY LITTLE BROTHER IS TOO!”

Virgil was extremely relieved when the light turned green and the conversation was cut off before it could go any further.

“I’m gonna be your best man, right?” Alan needled at Gordon, who smacked him.

* * *

“Virgil, Gordon and Alan ride in boring silence with only the narration of one passenger to keep them entertained,” Alan narrated in third person with his best David Attenborough impression. “The trio had contemplated stopping for food, but Virgil had insisted that they didn’t stop until noon, a decision met with profuse complaining and whining from the second adult in the car.”

Gordon, who had been in fits of silent laughter up until then, protested “Hey!” but Alan went on regardless.

“They passed many cars and fields, watching the day slip slowly by as the passengers in the backseat starved, due to the callous actions of the person behind the wheel.”

“Give it a rest, Alan, it's only thirty more minutes,” Virgil told him, annoyed.

“Virgil told Alan to give it a rest; Alan sighed morosely, and decided that he was not going to give it a rest for the moment. He wondered what they would eat when they finally stopped; if they were still alive, that is. Perhaps tacos? Sushi? Pizza? Maybe Subway? Whatever they stopped for, Alan was positive he would be bullied into paying.”

“For the love of – ”

* * *

“THIS IS HOW WE DO, YA, CHILLING, LAID BACK STRAIGHT STUNTIN YA WE DO IT LIKE THAT, THIS IS HOW WE DO, DO DO DO DO, THIS IS HOW WE DO!”

“Really you guys? Really.”

* * *

“I’m carsick,” Alan complained.

“We’re not even moving; we’re parked,” Virgil stated tonelessly.

“Yeah. But I’m sick of being in the car.”

“So what does that make being homesick?”

“…Shut up.”

* * *

“Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?” The lady at the drive thru asked Gordon as she handed him his drink.

Alan’s eyes widened at the golden opportunity.

“You probably saw his mugshot in the news!”

Behind them, Virgil put his head in his hands.

* * *

“Hey Virgil, wouldn’t it be great if you adopted both of us?”

“Oh hell no.”

* * *

It was well after dark when Virgil pulled into a motel. Ushering his two weary younger brothers out of the car, he walked them over to the kiosk.

The guy at the desk looked to be about Virgil’s age and was of slim build. The man was looking down at a newspaper, pen in hand. Alan shivered as he remembered an old horror film his Grandma had shown him and his brothers not too long ago, where the owner of the motel went around killing its customers. The youngest Tracy wondered fearfully if this guy did the same.

Alan shook his head. He was being silly.

Virgil walked up to the counter and cleared his throat. The man paused in doing his crossword puzzle and looked up.

“Two rooms please. One for me and one with separate beds for these two,” Virgil said, pointing at himself and his two brothers. “For just one night, thanks.”

The guy – Josh, his name tag read – smiled genuinely and handed Virgil the keys to the rooms.

“Here you go. Just write your names down here, please,” Josh pushed a notebook forward, “For just one night, that’ll be…”

Virgil smiled as he wrote their names down and nodded his thanks as he handed over the money. Josh grinned back and continued with what was obviously a memorised speech he gave to all people who stayed at the motel.

“Checkout’s at ten. There’s breakfast in the dining room at eight if y’all right with getting up that early. You also get one hour free wifi, then you gotta get a voucher if you want any more.”

“Thanks, Josh. I think we’ll just head straight to bed, the way these two are looking.”

“No worries.”

* * *

Gordon and Alan brushed their teeth, got into their pyjamas and said their goodnights quickly and quietly to Virgil before collapsing on their respective beds. Virgil smiled wearily and shut the door behind them, but not before tossing the key on the nightstand near Gordon.

Entering his own room, Virgil took his time brushing his teeth and getting into his bedclothes. When he finally got into bed, he was dead tired, but happy.

There was an unanswered message from John on his phone.

**Monday 11:08PM**

**Chatroom: 2 & 5**

_Starman5 earlier sent:_ Gordon texted me something about Alan and ‘the English language’

 _Starman5 earlier sent:_ should I be worried

 **Pianoman2:** no

 **Starman5:** FAB. Enjoy your holiday, btw.

 **Pianoman2:** thx

Virgil placed his phone on the bedside table and fell asleep.

Fifteen minutes later, he woke up to hear the crashing, jarring sound of thunder outside his window. Without even having to open his eyes, Virgil just knew that the tinies had already left the confines of their shared room.

He was right. Not ten seconds later, there was a knock on the door. Virgil got up and opened said door.

Gordon and Alan both stood in the doorway. Alan was shaking like a leaf. Gordon just looked at Virgil with sad, tired eyes.

Virgil pulled the door back to allow them into the room. Alan all but leapt under the covers of the bed, while Gordon waited for his older brother to follow him over. Virgil shut the door quietly.

The three brothers huddled together under the blankets, finding comfort in each other’s presence, and waited out the storm.

* * *

The three brothers managed to haul themselves out of bed, get dressed and arrive at the dining room by eight.

Virgil and Gordon were still poking at their breakfast when Alan pulled out a wad of papers from somewhere and buried himself in homework. The older two shared a knowing look.

Some ten minutes later, Alan pulled out his phone to text John, the Tracy family’s expert at writing essays.

**Tuesday 8:31PM**

**Chatroom: Space Bros**

**Alanator:** can I use the term “this author shits you not” in an English essay or is that unprofessional?

 **Starman5:** nonononono, never use “I” in professional essays. One shits you not.

 **Starman5:** Also acceptable: This author shits you not.

 **Alanator:** thanks

 **Starman5:** No wait, hang on. I’ve only just woken up.

 **Starman5:** It’s best to avoid the “general you.” “One would not be considered shitted,” is the probably the best way I could think of to word it formally.

 **Alanator:** omg thank you so much

 **Starman5:** you’re welcome. How is your head, btw?

 **Alanator:** its fine.

 **Starman5:** you’re sure?

 **Alanator:** it’s fine, John. Ttyl!

 **Starman5:** bye. Enjoy your holiday.

 **Alanator:** 😊 love u bro <333

 **Starman5:** love you too little brother

 **Starman5:** now do your homework

 **Alanator:** boo

* * *

Alan finished his homework with fifteen minutes left until checkout. Gordon, who had been moving his spoon around in what had once been his hot chocolate, threw a marshmallow at Alan’s head.

“Took you long enough.”

Alan flipped him off. “Professional English essays are hard.”

“So is your breakfast.”

Alan glanced at his plate to see his poached eggs had been partly eaten.

Gordon picked at his teeth.

“They’ll probably be cold by now –”

Virgil had to hold Alan back sp Gordon wouldn’t be going home with new scars to add to the growing collection he already had.

* * *

The silence in the backseat had Virgil suspicious for the first twenty minutes before he was lulled into a false sense of security.

He was just starting to relax and enjoy the ride when…

“PPPPHHHHHNNTTTTTTNNNAAJJJA!”, the ear-splitting sound of an elephant trumpeting right behind him had him yelling, “You little shit!”

* * *

“Hey, let’s play Jello,” Gordon said to Alan.

“I want to play Never Have I Ever.”

“How about 20 questions?”

“Or Would You Rather?”

“We could play Is This Natalie Portman or Kiera Knightly.”

“Huh? I don’t know either of those people.”

“How about the Silent Game?” Virgil suggested.

“You’re hilarious when you make jokes Virgil,” Gordon sniffed. Alan nudged him in the arm, and idea blossoming in his mind. “Oh, I know! Let’s play the Pick-Up-Story, where we take turns telling a made up story. I’ll go first: Once upon a time there was a really average guy that was so uninteresting his name isn’t even important enough to be mentioned in the story. Your turn.”

“So,” Gordon picked up, “One day the really average guy tried to flirt with a girl but it went so horribly that he literally died dead of embarrassment in the end.”

“Gordon, you can’t kill the character off on your first turn!”

* * *

“My foot fell asleep,” Alan whined, and thumping noises in quick succession could be heard in the back.

* * *

Alan and Gordon were both hunched over one of their phones. “Huh,” Gordon said jovially, “What a wonderful recipe!”

* * *

“So I’m thinking of taking a bit off the side, but I don’t want to do too much, because then it’d look too preppy,” Alan was telling Gordon, who was listening intently and nodding along.

“Yeah, I agree,” the swimmer said, “And maybe a tiny bit on the bangs too, but just so it stays out of your eyes while still having that ruffled look.”

* * *

“Are we THERE yet?” Alan asked for the fifth time in the last ten minutes.

“I am going to turn the heat on full blast back there if you ask me that again,” Virgil threatened irritably.

Alan let that sink in for a bit, then sang the line “Talk dirty to me,” which Gordon took as his cue to start beatboxing the saxophone riff.

“You two are SUCH IDIOTS,” Virgil shouted over the impromptu acapella session.

* * *

“Wanna camp here for the night?” Virgil asked the two in the back as they came up on a path to a free camping site on the side of the road. ****

“Aye, sure Virg,” Gordon answered for himself and his younger brother, looking out the window with interest.

“I’ll make eggs for dinner then. It’ll be easy enough.”

“Toe tap a flea, Virgil.” Gordon grimaced.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Alan?” he inquired gently.

Alan managed to pry his eyes open. “You had me at bacon.”

“I did not say bacon.”

Alan closed his eyes again.

“…You’re no fun.”

* * *

**Tuesday 9:30PM**

**Chatroom: Tol and smol**

**Blueskiesahead:** how’s the holiday going

 **Alanator:** it’s okay

 **Alanator:** Gordon’s an idiot tho

 **Blueskiesahead:** what did he do

 **Alanator:** everything

 **Blueskiesahead:** alright then

**Tuesday 10:03PM**

**Chatroom: The Terrible Two**

**Alanator:** I’m homesick

 **Poseydon:** how can you be homesick I am literally in the tent right next to you

 **Alanator:** last time I checked you weren’t an island Gordon

 **Poseydon:** but they do say every man is an island

 **Alanator:** go away

 **Poseydon:** I can’t

 **Poseydon:** I’m an island

**Tuesday 11:07PM**

**Chatroom: 2 & 5**

**Pianoman2:** I can hear them talking from my tent on the other side of the campsite

 **Starman5:** do you really resent them that much

 **Pianoman2:** they have been quite annoying on this particular trip

 **Starman5:** how much

 **Pianoman2:** oh…

 **Pianoman2:** only a lot

 **Starman5:** you know you can always come home early

 **Pianoman2:** I know.

**Tuesday 11:59PM**

**Chatroom: The Terrible Two**

**Alanator:** ass butter

_Poseydon has moved the current conversation to Virgil and the Tinies_

**Poseydon:** I want to move to a different tent

 **Alanator:** ☹

 **Pianoman2:** seriously

 **Pianoman2:** just make your own tent

 **Poseydon:** no

 **Alanator:** uwu

**Wednesday 12:31AM**

**Chatroom: Virgil and the Tinies**

**Alanator:** it sure is quiet out here

 **Poseydon:** you wanna make it louder

 **Alanator:** yeah okay what song do you wanna sing

 **Poseydon:** I was thinking 500 Miles

 **Alanator:** yeah or we could do The Final Countdown

 **Pianoman2:** Neither of you will be doing any such thing. Now put your phones away or I will call Grandma and tell her that you two have been texting well after midnight again.

 **Poseydon:** fuck you virgil

_Pianoman2 has kicked Poseydon from the groupchat_

**Alanator:** GOODNIGHT

* * *

“Alan, you’re going to drop it.”

“No I’m not – WATCH THIS! YEET!”

A plastic bottle was flipped successfully out of the moving car and onto the rim of a bin on the side of the road. The bottle stood upright for a few seconds before falling into the bin.

“Jesus _CHRIST_ Alan.”

Alan wasn’t listening. He was too busy dabbing.

* * *

“Hang on, my phone is ringing, be quiet!” Alan exclaimed, digging in his pockets and pulling the device out. Taking the call, he answered it with “Lucifer’s Cage, what the hell do you want?”

* * *

“Hey – give that back!” Alan exclaimed to Gordon. Virgil looked in the rearview mirror to see them scuffling around.

“Say you’re sorry!” Gordon taunted, amused.

“Give it back you jerk!”

“Say you’re sorry, and that I’m a wonderful person!”

“I’m gonna break your fingers to get your hand open if you don’t give it back!”

“Say you’re sorry, I’m a wonderful person, and you love me too much to ever lay a harsh hand on me.”

“…You ass.”

“Okay, all that but add a pretty please with a cherry on top.”

“Gordon, I swear –”

“Yeah, a lot actually.”

“Virgil!” Alan yelled, “Tell him to give it back!”

“Do I need to separate you two?!”

* * *

Gordon was smugly riding shotgun, and Alan was pouting in the back… but not for long. Taking out a stick of window paint, he wrote, ‘Just Married’ on the back window, then ducked down out of sight so that passing cars would only see ‘Just Married’ with Gordon and Virgil in the front seat.

* * *

“BEACH!”

…

“You just about blasted my eardrums…”

* * *

Gordon was posing.

The swimmer had his hands on his hips and was puffing his chest out, squinting out at the bay. Holding a stick that was almost as tall as he was by his side, he seemed to be reminiscent of Aquaman.

Alan was in stitches. The teenager was rolling around in the sand, trying and failing badly not to get the dry stuff in his mouth.

Virgil laughed, shaking his head as he leaned against the car, watching his younger brothers enjoying the chance to be silly and act their age for once – or at least, Alan was acting his age. Gordon certainly wasn’t.

Pulling out his phone, Virgil smirked as he took a couple of photos of the scene unfolding before him. And idea sparked in his mind, and the grin that took over his face was unmerciful and slightly out of character as the usually kind and considerate brother looked up the contacts for Lady Penelope and Kayo in his phone.

He sent them each a message with the photos attached.

It went something like this:

 _“Fun times at the beach! Wish you were here_ – Gordon.” [Three image attachments]

The responses came not much later.

 **Her Ladyship:** Wow, Virgil. How mature of you and your brothers. It’s good to see you’re all having an enjoyable time away from rescues. Send Gordon my love. <333 xoxo

 **Miss Badass:** nice. Say hello to Alan for me and tell Gordon he’s an idiot 😊

Virgil chuckled as he put his phone away. Mission accomplished.

* * *

“You slapped my sunburn on purpose!” Gordon accused.

“No I didn’t!”

“You totally did!”

…

“Don’t touch me.”

“I’m not touching you.”

“You – you’re touching me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“No right there, you totally touched me.”

“You MADE me touch you.”

“This, this is YOUR side, stay on your side.”

“Hey!”

As a scuffle broke out in the back, Virgil swatted at them, hoping to make contact, all while trying to keep his eyes on the road.

“Hey, no biting!”

“VIRGIL!”

* * *

The sun was going down on the horizon as Virgil drove quietly towards the spot Scott would pick them up in Thunderbird 2. Virgil smirked briefly at the thought of his need-for-speed older brother trying to fly the steadier, slower bird.

In the back, Alan had already fallen asleep, his head resting on Gordon’s shoulder, who in turn lay his head on Alan’s.

Virgil gave them an affectionate glance through the rearview mirror and smiled.

He turned his mp3 on and set the volume to low. The slow beat of an old, early Imagine Dragons song – Alan’s favourite old band – came wafting out of the car speakers.

_Get me right, all it takes is silent night  
I want my eyes to see these lights  
hold, hold, hold on, hold, hold on  
but when it comes it goes…_

“Good choice, Virg…”

Virgil looked in the mirror to see Gordon staring at him through slitted eyes.

“Thanks. I thought so too.”

_I am on my knees  
oh forgive me_

Gordon snorted softly, blowing air through Alan’s duckling down hair. He closed his eyes.

Virgil set his sights on the road.

_Drive, I got my head on aright  
I got my people strapped tight  
I got my head on aright  
oh, oh, oh, oh…_

The dying of the sun set the sky alight.


End file.
